Songs and Other Verse by Eugene Field
page 24 of 142 (16%)
page 24 of 142 (16%)
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To gain the subject of my moan;
We've neither spinsters nor relics out West-- These do I love, and these alone. SUPPOSE Suppose, my dear, that you were I And by your side your sweetheart sate; Suppose you noticed by and by The distance 'twixt you were too great; Now tell me, dear, what would you do? I know--and so do you. And when (so comfortably placed) Suppose you only grew aware That that dear, dainty little waist Of hers looked very lonely there; Pray tell me sooth--what would you do? I know, and so do you. When, having done what I just did With not a frown to check or chill, Suppose her red lips seemed to bid Defiance to your lordly will; Oh, tell me, sweet, what would you do? I know, and so do you. |
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